


mckinley's a dyke with ben

by batmobile



Category: Wet Hot American Summer (2001), Wet Hot American Summer: First Day of Camp (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/F, just ben mckin and susie, this is so self-indulgent someone stop me pls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-21
Updated: 2015-08-21
Packaged: 2018-04-16 09:13:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4619808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/batmobile/pseuds/batmobile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"She gets so uncomfortable whenever we talk openly about sexual issues.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	mckinley's a dyke with ben

**Author's Note:**

> why @davidwain. why @michaelshowalter. why @bradleycooper. why @god. 
> 
> ([ben](http://data.whicdn.com/images/152568819/large.png) and [mckin](http://data.whicdn.com/images/179405741/large.jpg), for your imagination to feast upon, except mckin wouldn't have a nose piercing because she's not that cool. you're welcome.)

JJ's summer laziness has settled low in the air, heavy enough to have a presence in the mood. It's as impactful as McKinley or Gary, who are lying to either side of him, their three heads meeting in a triangle on the grass.

It's the days that always get overlooked, the ones in the middle, which JJ finds the most enjoyable. The sunrise this morning marked his 26th day of camp, and it's one that he'll definitely dream about while napping remedial math away. He's stretching his limbs against the ground, pointing out phallic clouds to McKinley and Gary while something tickles gently at his ear, and his skin's practically pulsing with imminent sunburn. Basically, it's glorious. By this point in the summer, the long-awaited 15th day has passed, which is when Beth stops pretending to care where the kids wander off to during the day, freeing the counselors up to spend their summer hours doing whatever (or whomever) they please. Not that the three of them are exactly knee-deep in propositions, but Katie and Andy make it painfully obvious that blowjobs are a very real option at Camp Firewood.

JJ feels that something tickle against the shell of his ear again. When half-hearted swatting seems to have no effect on the object, he grabs for it instead.

"Get your sweaty hand off of me," McKinley mutters to his right. She glares at where her hair is captured by JJ's fist, but her tone doesn't carry any real heat. "Now I'm gonna have your jizz in my hair, thanks."

"Bet you're used to jizz in your hair," Gary says. He uses the same monotone that he would for the day's lunch; this type of humor practically grows on trees between the three of them, and the novelty of making such a joke has almost entirely worn off. JJ releases the hair to hold his hand out for a high-five, but Gary is far too sweaty to make the reach required. The two awkwardly brush fingertips, which gets the point across well enough.

JJ half-expects an 'only your dad's,' or at least a 'fuck off' from McKinley. Sometimes it's easy to forget that she replies to all comments about sex and herself with radio silence. He shares a knowing glance with Gary; the three haven't even spent a whole month together yet, and McKinley has already made it clear that she won't discuss anything beyond making out. Not verbally, but her actions are so clear that she doesn't need to. JJ knows that girls aren't supposed to be as obsessed with sex as boys are or whatever, but McKinley is so much like just another guy in every other aspect that it seems aggressively out of character; through furtive glances, he and Gary silently decide to prod.

Gary props himself up on his elbows as JJ begins his interrogation, "So, McKinley, you--", but a sound that used to be in the background comes to the front, asserting itself with its over-exaggeration and noise as two teenagers circle each other, clearly wielding fake swords as they perform their diologue.

"It's that goddamn theater kid. Steven or Stuart or some shit," Gary grouses. "I wonder if he knows that everyone calls him Susie 'cause he's a total fag."

Flopping his head over to look at the offenders, but only when their Shakespeare recitations really become too much to ignore away, JJ takes note of Susie's partner. "And he's there with his girl, Ben. Wonder if she knows everyone calls her Ben 'cause..." He can't quite imagine why; his first thought is some sort of lesbian jab, but her hair isn't short, so he reasons that she can't be a dyke. "Why do we call her that again?"

"Her real name's Benedicta," McKinley replies with her eyes still closed, the only one not disturbed by the reenactment of Twelfth Night going on a yard away. This statement makes JJ pause; since when does she know shit about Ben? He tries to run it over in his head. He knows that the two girls did the zoot suit together in the first production of the summer, but McKinley said that she'd hated every second. This is the first time he's ever had a reason to doubt her. He and Gary don't care that she's into drama; why would she want to lie about something like this?

JJ opens his mouth to say something, but Ben (or Benessa, he supposes) seems to have left Susie to do whatever it is that people like her do-- write an original play, maybe? The moment passes, and their environment quiets considerably, the feeling of lazy content falling once again over the trio. He decides to continue his previous line of interrogation instead of commenting on the unexplainable knowledge that McKinley has. 

"So, McKinley, what's it like to get actual jizz in your hair? I mean, you suck dick, right?" When the words come out of his mouth, JJ winces a little bit; maybe he could have taken a more tactful approach, or simply  _asked_ McKinley why she hates talking about sex instead of prodding and hoping to hit a nerve. Gary gives him the subtle thumbs-up, and inhales as if to say something himself, but McKinley is up before he can even get a word in.

"I'll catch up with you losers at lunch, okay?" she mumbles, and then she's gone. Gary raises his head only long enough to watch her leave, and then lets it drop back to the grass, eyes squinting back up at the clouds.

"Dude, that's kind of sad," he says, and JJ is startled. Gary and he have silently shared opinions and cast judgement onto McKinley and her uncharacteristic prudishness, but it has never been something they've verbally spoken about. 

"She gets so uncomfortable whenever we talk openly about sexual issues," he says, half in agreement with Gary, and half to make sure that they are on the same page with what they're discussing. JJ has never been very good at silent social cues; at his grandmother's funeral, he sang Funkytown under his breath, and didn't know until afterwards that the priest was shooting him daggers all throughout the prayer. 

"I don't think she's ever even been with a dude. One of us should bone her. Y'know, so she can experience the ultimate before her senior year." Gary's eyes are covered in sunglasses, but JJ can only assume that he looks as nonchalant as he sounds. This off-puts JJ a little bit; sure, they talk about sex all the time, but it's always involving mythical, unattainable creatures like celebrities or Lindsay. It hits him that, even though he's spent practically all of this summer in the company of McKinley, she's become sort of a guy, someone that he can just hang out around. The thought of the two of them plus sex had never even crossed his mind, but Gary sounded so chilled out about it that his immediate instinct is to agree; JJ hates feeling like a stick in the mud.

"Race to see who can get in her panties first?" He says, and hates every word. 

"Get laid with McKinley!" Gary crows, only sitting up in the grass to shake hands with JJ and then promptly fall back to the ground.   
  
"Look at that cloud, dude. I bet that's what Gene's dick looks like."

*******

McKinley fumbles with the cotton heart in her pocket as she knocks once, and then twice, on the door of the cabin. Her thoughts are flying faster than she can process them, and all she knows is that she's nervous and her palms are sweaty. Ben's gonna think that this is creepy as shit, isn't she? She's going to get freaked out and then say this was a bad idea and call off whatever it is that the two have had going this summer.  _Fuck._

After deciding that a third knock would be needy, McKinley decides to go for one anyway; but then the cabin door is open, and Ben is standing there, looking just as nervous as McKinley feels. Her cheeks are tinged pink beyond what can be explained away by the midday heat, and her eyebrows are furrowed when the door first opens, but the expression smoothes out once she identifies the girl in front of her. McKinley can't stop the warm feeling in her chest at how open her girlfriend's emotions always are on her face, and she feels herself instinctually returning Ben's eager smile. How did she ever get this lucky?

"Hi."

"Hey," McKinley replies, feigning nonchalance with a skill that she'd mastered over the years. Girl's locker rooms can teach a closeted lesbian one hell of a lesson about self control. "I sewed you somethin'."

She fishes into the pocket of her athletic shorts and retrieves the plushy heart she sewed yesterday. The concept isn't that complicated, but resources at Camp Firewood are surprisingly lacking. Not only did she have to jog to the convenience store for cotton stuffing, but she also did practically everything but get on her knees to make Susie a) okay access to the sewing materials for something that wasn't strictly related to the _grand theatre_ b) swear up and down not to tell Ben, although he didn't quite understand why McKinley was so keen on keeping the project a secret. McKinley had to convince Susie that she was madly in love with JJ and that this was one cog in an elaborate confession of admiration. Somehow, she got through the whole thing while not only making it believable, but also not ralphing at the idea of being remotely interested in JJ. There were a few close calls. 

It was all worth it to see Ben's excitement when she realizes that the stick figures embroidered onto the fabric were her and McKinley.

"Is that us?" Ben practically coos, holding the heart close to where hers is in her chest as she leans forwards and kisses McKinley on the cheek. "Thank you so much. I'll put this on my beside table back home." 

The two stand that way for a while, both grinning stupidly at each other and trying to memorize the other's face, neither particularly concerned with anything besides the company of someone they love.

Or, at least, someone McKinley loves. She hasn't really talked about that kind of stuff with Ben yet, and so she isn't sure where Ben stands on this. If what they have is ever dismissed as a summer fling, McKinley thinks she might actually cry. And McKinley never cries.  _  
_

"Uh, can I come in?" she asks, trying to distract herself from her own thoughts. She gestures behind Ben, but halfway through, she decides to abort the movement, and self-consciously tucks a strand of hair behind her ear instead. Why is it that she can't ever seem to compose herself when it counts? She had been so cool and collected while she fucked around with Gary and JJ, but once she tries to talk to someone she genuinely likes, everything freezes up.

Embarrassment flashes over Ben's face; even though McKinley knows that she didn't do anything wrong, she immediately wants to apologize the look off of Ben's face.

"I'm such an idiot, oh my God," Ben mutters, stepping aside as her preexisting blush darkens a few shades. "C'mon in." 

Stepping into the cabin, McKinley continues the conversation. "I added extra stuffing so that you could squeeze it if you ever get stressed. I thought that, I don't know, it could help you somehow when you're having a panic attack."

There aren't too many dirty bras littered around, and the floor looks sanitary enough, so she deems the room clean enough to be their temporary makeout spot. The tool shed seems like it might be a better place (more secluded, far away from the reminder that campers exist), but her and Ben haven't made it down there yet. McKinley makes a mental note to get down there tomorrow. 

"I'm not a certified panic attack treater or anything," she says, and she cringes at the words as they sit in the humid air between her and Ben. 

"Either way, it's really sweet for you to think of that," Ben assures her, the raw, truthful genuineness of her tone making McKinley's heart melt. "Thank you." She leans in, pressing her forehead against McKinley's before pressing their lips together. 

Every other time that McKinley and Ben made out, McKinley couldn't stop herself from smiling like an idiot the whole time, unbelievably happy that she was allowed to have someone as seemingly perfect as Ben. This time is different, though. It's not that McKinley isn't happy, but the moment seems almost solemn, seriousness taking the place of awkwardness, so intense that it makes McKinley's knees quake. She feels like she could weep with every touch of a tongue, each brush of fingers at her waist, the slightest exhale against her mouth. 

She pushes Ben gently against the wall, wrapping her arms around her neck, sucking softly at her collarbone; she would love to make a mark some day, one that would still be there in the morning, but she isn't sure if that's the sort of thing that Ben would allow, or even want. One of her hands drifts from Ben's neck down, down, down, until it's sitting right above the waistband of her pleated skirt. She lets her fingers graze the soft skin of Ben's lower stomach, procrastinating not because she doesn't want to move forward, but because she's afraid of fucking up what comes next.

Ben lets out a little whimper, and McKinley forgets all of her insecurities, mind blinded by a mantra of  _hothothot._ Her hand dips lower, under Ben's waistband, seeking more of those noises, but what she finds instead is something cold, hard, and undeniably... plastic? 

"Ben?" she whispers into her girlfriend's ear, not wanting the moment to break. "What's this tucked in your waistband?" The whimper that she lets out this time is much different than the last one; that one was turned on, and this one is nothing but ashamed.  

"I, uh, I," Ben stutters, but then the words come out all in a rush. "NurseNancylentmeherdildoandIwantyoutouseitonme." 

McKinley isn't sure what was just said, but she's pretty sure that the word dildo was in there, and the thought of that makes her panties wetter, something she didn't even think was possible at this point. "What?"

"Nurse Nancy lent me her... dildo, and I want you to, um, use it on me," Ben's face flushes redder and redder with every word, and she looks like she's about to explode when she reaches into her skirt and pulls out the object in question. "But it's not gross, I swear. I disinfected it twice, even though she says that she's never used it before. Better safe than sorry, right? You don't have to do it if you don't want. Oh god, you don't want to. I'm sorry. This was a bad idea." 

McKinley needs a moment to take in how vulnerable, sexy, oblivious, and downright fucking  _precious_ Ben is in this moment. Not want to? This is everything that she's _ever_ wanted.   
  
McKinley plucks the dildo from Ben's hands. "Of course I want to, you idiot," she says, looking at the object in her hands, and trying to figure out the best way to navigate this situation over the pounding in her head, heart, and between her legs. "Uh, you should take off your skirt and bend over that dresser." 

*******

JJ pokes at the lumpy grey mass on the plate in front of him. It's the fucking ravioli again. He looks longingly at Gary's hot dog and has a rush of regret; he totally should have signed up for kitchen duty. Sure, Gene's a total nutcase, but it would be worth losing a finger or two to eat ballpark food three meals a day. Maybe he can just sneak a fry...

"Dude, get your fucking hand off my fries," Gary says, slapping JJ's hand away. It stings a lot, and he'd normally fight back, but a day of tranquility has left him too lazy to tussle. 

"Where's McKinley?" he asks, looking around the cafeteria for any sign of her. 

"Getting ready to get banged by  _me_ , 'cause you're losing this bet, dickhead," Gary boasts. Instead of trash-talking back, JJ just steals some of Gary's fries and shoves them messily into his mouth. He only gets a middle finger this time. 

The two eat it silence for a couple minutes before McKinley shows up, practically throwing her own tray of grey goop onto the table and staring at it with distain. JJ can see that there is an unusual amount of sweat on her forehead and a little bit on her neck. Sure, it's a thousand fucking degrees, but she never really sweats; she usually just gets red. 

"Where the hell have you been?" Gary asks, and given the confused looks he's shooting not-so-subtly in JJ's direction, it's obvious that they both share a curiosity about her newly disheveled state. 

"Not in Loserville with you," she says, holding her hand up to get a high-five from JJ. His mind is more or less put to ease by that. This is how things should be, and he thinks that Gary feels the same way, judging by how the atmosphere goes back to normal almost instantly. They start a very serious conversation on the merits and shortcomings of Atomic Fireballs, and JJ feels so at ease that he almost forgets about the bet. That is, until he notices Victor swaggering over towards their table, his gaze clearly set on McKinley. JJ isn't particularly concerned, _e_ _ven Abby Bernstein wouldn't fuck him,_ he thinks, but it's clear that Gary doesn't think the same. He gets that little panicked look that he gets in his eye when he realizes that McKinley and JJ stole his underwear while he was in the shower, or when it hits him that he should have passed on the spray-bugspray-into-your-mouth dare, and shifts towards McKinley, placing his hand softly on her forearm. 

"What, do I have sauce on my arm?" she asks, completely oblivious, pulling it away from his grasp to check. 

"Nah, just more jizz," Gary jokes, his voice sounding similar to what JJ would imagine a strangle victim would sound like. McKinley either notices or doesn't care; she replies as if this is just a normal call-back, and not a painfully transparent attempt to cover an advance. 

"Fuck you," she laughs, shoveling more ravioli into her mouth. "Shit, this gets worse every time, doesn't it?" 

In his peripheral vision, JJ sees Victor turn around abruptly, as if he hadn't just been swaggering towards their table with the bravado of a thousand Andys. Maybe he'd seen Gary with his arm on her and psyched himself out. JJ almost laughs out loud. Not a virgin, his ass. 

It isn't until after they put their trays away that McKinley even comes up; well, more accurately, until the lack of her comes up.   
  
"How the shit did she sneak off? Again!" Gary grouses, scrunching up his face like a child whose favorite toy got taken away. "Do you think we could catch her if we left now?" 

" _I_ might," JJ says before sprinting out of the cafeteria, followed seconds later by Gary. "There she is!" JJ points to a distinctive pair of athletic shorts making their way into the woods, following someone else who is shrouded by trees. He and Gary stumble after her, giggling all the way, and doing a poor job of staying two steps behind. 

*******

Frankly, JJ is surprised that hiding behind trees works as effectively as it does; he wouldn't exactly describe himself as gangly, but it seems that he becomes stick-thin whenever he's spying. And it's from behind a pine that he can see McKinley, and she's... catching a frisbee? He all but rolls his eyes. He ran a mile for thisshit? Bet be damned, it would be much more worth it if she'd come out here to french some kid. Then, at least, he'd get some blackmail material; he wonders briefly why he wouldn't be interested in watching her make out with someone, but dismisses it for bigger questions when he sees who she's playing frisbee with.   
  
Ben?

Not that JJ has anything specifically against the girl, but it brings up his previously unanswered questions of why McKinley had tried to cover up their friendship. Maybe she's worried they'll think she's a pussy for having female friends or something? Not that he'd ever think that she's a pussy; she's more tough than any guy at Camp Firewood. Just using the example in front of him, the way that she's tackling Ben is more boyish than anything JJ's done in the past 3 years. Or how she's pinning Ben's hands above her head and... kissing her? And not just one of those quick kisses that girls do with their really close friends sometimes; it's a proper, open mouth, I-am-attracted-to-you-romantically kiss. 

"McKinley's a dyke?" It's out of his mouth before he can even comprehend the idea in his own mind. Sure, she kicks their asses at softball and only hangs out with guys, but she also loves theater and sewing and her hair's long and she wears makeup sometimes and shit. So how is it that--

"McKinley's a dyke... with Ben!" Gary says, and his mouth is literally open. JJ only thought that that happened in cartoons. The two boys watch on as Ben and McKinley stand up, play frisbee for a while, and then kiss up against another pine. JJ watches the last of these events with fascination and confusion more than anything, while the way that Gary watches it is with another emotion altogether. It makes JJ feel a little weird, so he tugs on his friends arm, and the two leave the clearing in the woods, each shooting frequent looks over their shoulders at the episode of The Twilight Zone they left behind. 

*******

It's mind blowing to McKinley how much the slime that is her chicken parm looks like the ravioli from lunch. With her head rested on Ben's shoulder, she's explaining her theory involving the kitchen, a bucket of flavorless grey sludge, and a syringe filled with different flavorings to her girlfriend, who is amusing her, but clearly not as convinced of the conspiracy theory as McKinley is herself. It doesn't matter, though, because they're both still happy, and one day McKinley will singlehandedly bring down the corrupt camp food industry. 

JJ and Gary walk over to her table side-by-side, which isn't weird in itself, but what is strange is that they both have these idiotic looks on their faces like they're about to spill the world's biggest secret. She starts to raise her head off of Ben's shoulder, suddenly self-conscious, when JJ says, "You guys are, like, easily a ten times better couple than Katie and that dickhead Andy."   
  
McKinley's heart nearly breaks with happiness, if that's a thing. She's pretty sure that it's not, but in that moment her body invented it. Her mouth opens to say something, but only squeaks, which is a world more embarrassing than just staying quiet. How did she end up with friends who are this kick-ass?

Sure, guys finding out that you're a lesbian is usually better than girls; when guys find out, they might be vulgar and ask to watch you while you have sex, but they aren't nearly as violent or hostile as girls have been to her since such a young age. In 8th grade, her friends called her a dyke, disinvited her from all of their sleepovers, and practically spat in her face. Being friends with guys is just so much easier for her, even if they make her feel uncomfortable every once in a while. 

But Camp Firewood is a whole different world, she thinks as she looks totally not lovingly at the side of Ben's face, who is scrunching up her nose at the chicken on her fork. Because here she has real friends who don't call her names or even belittle her. They just take her for what she is. It strikes her that this is more of a home than her real one ever has been. 

"What?" Ben giggles, blushing at McKinley's gaze.   
  
"Nothing," she replies, turning her face down to her dinner, but she's grinning like an idiot. Ben presses her lips to the top of McKinley's head, and McKinley thinks that this might be the best fucking summer she's ever had. 

**Author's Note:**

> ik that 99% of this is based on events from the last day of camp, not the 26th, but you can fucking fight me.
> 
> leave a kudos/comment if you catch any mistakes (and i'm sure there will be plenty) or if my title makes u cri evrytiem.


End file.
